Page 14 of The Divine Shallows
On the eveof the Ceremony, under the glow of a full moon, Elowyn found herself ensnared in a fever dream. Her body tossed and turned, trapped in the grip of haunting memories from seven years prior.
In her restless slumber, she relived the moment when the High Priestess had announced Elyria’s candidacy on the Seventh Day of last season’s Trial.
The dream began with Elowyn fidgeting uncomfortably in the ornate dress her mother had insisted she wear for the evening’s event. Throughout the past six days of the Ceremony, she had been confined to similarly restrictive outfits, despite only attending the First and Seventh Day this season. She could still hear her mother’s words echoing in her mind, “Dressing well is a form of power and stature, Elowyn. Present yourself as a statement to be remembered.”
Standing behind her mother and father near the Divine Shallows, Elowyn was in a winsome gown. The skirts of her dress boasted richhues of burgundy, maroon, and crimson, cascading down her form like silk petals and pooling around her feet in layers of fabric.
Beside her, stood Elyria, dressed in a gown twin to her own, but the fabric was a shade of dark obsidian. The dress was powerful, haunting even, as it seemed to extinguish the light that surrounded it. Both sisters wore silver circlets on their heads embellished with a singular opal at the crest.
Draped over their shoulders and down their backs were golden cloaks embroidered with dragon scales, known asaureumin Neramyr. These cloaks, a customary attire for royalty, served to distinguish them as descendants of the seven founding fey.
At the young age of twelve, Elowyn was witnessing the Ceremony of Caena for the first time. Her mother had explained that today marked the final and most important day of the Ceremony—the day where the chosen candidates would traverse across the Bridge Between Worlds.
Elowyn surveyed the hallowed Temple that surrounded her. It was crowded and filled with noblefolk and distinguished members of the seven courts. Yet, her attention was captivated by the other royal fey that possessed divine markings upon the surface of their skin.
Standing quietly, Elowyn observed the kings and queens that ruled the seven realms of Neramyr.
First among them was a striking sorceress with sharp, angular features and hair as dark as midnight. Her porcelain skin and eyes akin to radiant rubies commanded attention as she moved gracefully. Beside her stood a male of taller stature, sharing her shade of hair, skin, and eyes.
Adorning their heads were intricate crowns embellished with garnets, symbols of their kingdom’s wealth from the Iron Hollows. Both monarchs woreaureumcloaks decorated with patterns resembling basilisk scales, while the iridescent markings etched onto their skin shared a similar pattern. These two monarchs were King Wilden and Queen Irena of House Bloodweaver.
Shifting her gaze, Elowyn observed the regal figures of King Dren and Queen Maeva of House Mirthwood, rulers of Lochwald. Standing proudly beside them was their son, the prince of Mirthwood.
All three royal fey exuded their own unique beauty. Their umber skin radiated warmth, complemented by eyes of bold and assured charcoal hues. Queen Maeva wore a silver circlet atop her head, her tight curls fell in small ringlets down her back. Beside her, King Dren possessed the robust physique of a seasoned warrior.
House Mirthwood was known for their skill in combat and abjuration magic. The monarchs bore shimmering ivory markings resembling crawling vines and leaves, gracefully patterning their arms in curls. Their son, akin to Elowyn, bore no moonlight ink upon his skin save for his palms. Despite his youth, he carried an air of maturity beyond his years. All three wore goldenaureumemblazoned with a grimwolf encircled by coiling vines.
Next in line were the rulers of Prymont, from House Skyborn. Elowyn had always harbored a hint of envy toward those born into this house—if lucky enough to inherit it, fey of House Skyborn possessed wings. The wings varied in length, size, and shape, with females typically bearing smaller, more ethereal wings, while males boasted wider, robust ones. Elowyn’s gaze fixed upon Queen Emilyn Skyborn, whose honeyed hair fell between her silver wings. Her eyes, a brilliant amethyst, gleamed against her complexion.
Beside her, King Nolas Skyborn possessed a formidable pair of gray wings, nearly touching the ground even in their tucked position. His brown hair was paired with emerald-green eyes, a complement to his markings resembling rippling clouds and streaks of lightning. Standing between the two rulers was their daughter, Princess Syrilla Skyborn.
Elowyn’s first encounter with the Skyborn princess occurred during a visit to the kingdom of Prymont as a feyling. The same age as Syrilla, Elowyn cried to her mother and father, longing for wings to soar among the mountain peaks like Bane and Stryx. Thougholder now, Elowyn still felt a pang of envy for the Skyborn lineage’s aerial gift. Clasped from the Skyborn monarch’s shoulders, draped goldenaureumdepicting an embroidered sky, their cloaks curving deeply at the small of their back to accommodate their wings.
Continuing her observations, Elowyn spotted the monarchs of Erimead: King Balt and Queen Nyra of House Blackbane. Their kingdom, adjacent to Eriden, shared a similar mountainous terrain, separated only by a vast channel of water. Elowyn was familiar with the tales of their twin sons, Lox and Llyr Blackbane, often glimpsing them riding ophis across the Erimead ranges. These ophis, winged serpents, were smaller than Eriden’s firedrakes. They piqued Elowyn’s curiosity, fueling her desire to one day ride one. However, her parents remained cautious about her visiting Erimead without a formal invitation.
The Blackbane twins, with their silken onyx hair, bore a striking resemblance to one another save for one distinguishing feature: one set of eyes were a heterochromic sapphire blue and emerald green. Each member of the Blackbane royalty outfitted themselves with goldenaureumdepicting a baleful ophis with outstretched wings.
Then, her gaze fell upon the monarchs of the Elune Isles, King Tydred and Queen Aletta Driftmoor. Their tanned complexion radiated with the glow of their coastal realm. The Driftmoor royals had a single daughter, the princess of Driftmoor, whom Elowyn had yet to acquaint herself with. Stories of the Elune Isles’ marvels had reached Elowyn’s ears, and perhaps these very stories influenced her uncle’s departure from Eriden to the Isles three years ago.
Legend had it that in the Elune Isles, the sun never waned, and the sea stretched endlessly in crystal blue. The king and queen bore ivory markings reminiscent of rolling ocean waves. Elowyn hoped to one day visit their sun-drenched kingdom. The Driftmoor royals wore goldenaureumdepicting the oceanand a surfacing loch hydra—a sinister sea serpent.
Lastly, her attention turned to the monarchs of Orwyn, King Kyrus and Queen Nikoletta of House Darkmaw. The Darkmaw lineage was distinguished by their deep claret-red hair, akin to the Fangwrights’ snow-colored locks. Elowyn observed as the king and queen engaged in a quiet, intimate exchange, their skin covered with moonlit strokes resembling wisps of smoke. Theiraureumwere embroidered with the feathers of wicked winged griffons, a symbol of their lineage’s power and prowess.
Their son, the prince of Orwyn, was spectating the royalty in the Temple just as Elowyn was. She observed him fidgeting with his hands, and noticed the two crescent moons inked on his palms. Suddenly, as if sensing her gaze, the prince looked up, locking eyes with Elowyn. Startled, she quickly averted her gaze to the floor, feeling a flush of embarrassment wash over her. When she dared to glance up again, she found him still looking at her. With a friendly dimpled smile, the prince waved, prompting Elowyn to timidly return the gesture, her cheeks still tinged with embarrassment.
Her attention shifted as the claret-haired prince turned his focus to the High Priestess. Stepping into the Divine Shallows, the High Priestess waded to the center of the celestial waters, commanding the attention of all those present in the temple.
“Kings and queens, princes and princesses, fey of Neramyr,” she began, her voice echoing through the sacred space, “We are gathered here today on this next iteration of the seventh year to witness the Trial of Caena once more. Today marks the Seventh Day, a sacred day upon which Caena opens the gates to her realm to accept seven children of the moon into her Trial.
“These seven candidates are granted the opportunity to traverse the Bridge Between Worlds and seek divine judgment. Should they prove successful in their quest for ascendancy, the Goddess will bestow upon them her sacred Mark and grant them divine magic to wield in Neramyr. May we ask the Goddess for her benevolenceto guide them across the Bridge Between Worlds and welcome them safely into her realm.”
The High Priestess pivoted towards the audience encircling the Divine Shallows, acknowledging each monarch of the seven realms with a nod. Her gaze returned forward, her eyes turning a translucent white hue, veiled by a mystical force. Motionless, she stood amidst the thrumming energy of the Temple, her ivory markings glowing faintly along her arms.
As the divine waters at her feet stirred, the air within the Temple crackled with energy.
“It’s time. We must begin,” the High Priestess declared.
In unison, the kings and queens of the seven realms advanced towards the Divine Shallows, their upturned palms radiating with power. Their unique markings upon their skin shimmered with intensity, mirroring the luminosity of the High Priestess’ own.
